Sunday, November 29, 2009

Sunday Shorts

Another very brief posting as I am due to join First Feral Family activities for the rest of Sunday, and into Monday as well. Now that my old PC's components (motherboard, PSU) are in my my mother's recently upgraded PC, I might be able to post from there.

The third laundering of my two cotton T-shirts is required as they have been beseiged with a linting "from" the wool socks that were not laundered with them. Somehow, the wool lint somehow leaps into the washing machine and fouls particular garments to force their extra laundering in a later load. As always, any garment or item that takes on a linting behavior is laundered separately. So far, towels, wool socks and now jeans can somehow cast lint off and onto the other items in the laundry. Go figure. But if the offending linting items are washed with the bedsheets, why no linting takes place. And it would seem that the assholes like to have fresh laundered items flung back in the plastic laundry bin to moulder there until the next load, or even get their own laundering. The endless perp games over laundry are still in full-on mode, and especially of late as I will be cleaning up my farm work clothes for the winter shutdown they informed of two weeks ago. All is not so bad; I get to apply for a grant again because I am unemployed, and on a disability income. Plus, there is plenty of pick up work, leaves mainly, at my in-town brother's and mother's places. I suspect this winter time layoff will accord the perps other benefits of jerking with me in other ways as well.

As usual when laundering, a sudden onset to clean up the apartment takes over. A vacuuming even, as this is fairly infrequent, but I did get the planted rationale to clean up as the farm work clothing will not be throwing off grit, crumbs and straw chaff. That made sense, and so it was thus; vacuuming, sweeping and bathroom cleaning. And as always, the planted dog hairs that erupt from nowhere, and always on cleaned surfaces. And I see they are also doing this same tactic while shaving (face and front)l the dog hairs somehow arrive caught up in my fingers or on the razor, - at least five such while shaving alone.

The pounding of walls and the ceiling of the putative neighbors has started up and bears no resemblance to someone hanging pictures or whatever other apartment related maintenance one can think of. That suggests they want to noisestalk me completing this blog posting, as my mother will be picking me up in a few minutes. Suffice to say that the assholes have been diligenty hounding me at the moment of completion of anything of late, and all the more noticeable when doing the farm work job. Sometimes someone would complete a task that was mostly done by me, or vice versa, having me finish a job that was mostly done by someone else. And no end of delays and break time timing to extend the moment of completion for later, often with differing personnel present.

And now, after five minutes of wall tapping, the Fuckwit is still at it. I used to get this bullshit in my Seattle apartment when the assholes first struck and went overt. And now, 7 years later, they are still at it. The most obvious coordination is when the tapping starts overhead and travels toward a wall, and then the tapping continues, going down from the top of the wall. That takes coordination from at least two putative neighbors, har, har.

And now ten minutes later, continued wall tapping, this time with a different beat. The perps might be going a little beserk today, a First Feral Family visit imminently, and then a stayover to do gardening work there Monday morning. Another beserk coordination might be over last night's nut shave; normally a once per week event, but scripted for a two week interval this time. There was plenty of concurrent noise at the time, and I suspect there will be a heavy navy blue gangstalking color theme, the same color as the disposable razor I used. I haven't been wrong yet. Now to post.

Monday, November 23, 2009

A Work Week's Worth

11-23-2009, 2130h
The second time I am typing this as it was deleted on me a few minutes ago. These are brief summarizations that fit the harassment theme, e.g. stalking me with petroleum products.

-A tractor trailer gasoline tanker with pup trailer was next to the bus waiting in traffic on my side of the bus, some 2' away from the window, and then the same tanker reprised again 1.5 hours later when doing my farm labor job at the area overlooking over the busy highway #17 from the farm kale patch. It could be a coincidence, but that notion has been roundly dispelled for the last seven years of overt abuse, and the perp's petroleum products obsession is unrelenting.

-The military Sea King "regular" chopper they like to put on did at least four flybys when harvesting cabbages in the cabbage patch, with plenty of blackish emanations from it, plus a bright cluster plasma spatter pattern off of its tail for a second or two. Never have I seen such "dedication" by our Canadian armed forces, putting this aircraft on back and forth duty and originating from a civilian airport, Victoria International. I suppose if I made any enquiries as to what the helicopter was doing there so often I might be labelled a terrorist under the new expanded civil rights impairing version of this term.

-And relentless coverage by headlights, aka pit-lamping, aimed at me all day long when in the cabbage fields. Even if some 400' away, one can be sure that if high beams are on, they are aimed at me. The farm bordering houses also keep their outdoor lights on all day long.

-and a major confluence of co-worker gangstalker action when I returned from the cabbage field at near 1630h (dusk onset), getting out of the vehicle with my dayglo orange rain jacket on (with high viz reflectors), along with a fool's errand job to send my outside again to pointlessly repeat of my tracks through the building doorway and the concrete to asphalt interface of the ground surfaces.

-Major shit games at 0630h this morning before setting off, and unheard of time for me to take a crap, another never-before.

-They kept me awake for at least two hours before getting to sleep last night, though it seemed like longer.

A very heavy harassment evening since getting back from the farm labor job; 20 rage-ifications, some over making me wobble over on one foot when walking straight to my backpack that was on the floor. It rained all afternoon, and I was outside working in it with my dayglo raincoat on and the hood up, the last being a rare event. The use of dayglo colors for gangstalkers and props has gone up considerably in the past two weeks, as I have been wearing my dayglo raincoat more often. I still get plenty of helicopter action, some 12 passes today of the extra dark colored Sea King, a military helicopter. As usual, blackish emanations come from it, some also spread miles wide at a near horizontal angle. Not all the beams from the helicopter are directed at me, some seem to be a wide area dispersion exercise.

And quite an increase in red colored vehicles, especially at the dusk onset. The foreman with whom I get a ride into downtown three days a week a the end of the work day was wearing his dayglo orange raincoat while driving, and kept following a red vehicle that was hitting the brakes too often, but he didn't attempt to pass the Fuckwit like I would of. My cardinal rule of driving is to safely pass any mentally perturbed or otherwise erratic driver, of which I get a considerable number since the abuse went overt in 2002.

Another emergency vehicle light show when homebound on the bus. Over eight police vehicles pulling all vehicles over, including the bus, located under a bridge. Nearly every time I am travelling, or on public streets this week there has been at least one red & blue flashing light show, as if an emergency, and even when walking to the bus stop yesterday morning on Fort St. Also when getting a ride with the foreman after a day's work at the farm.

Another, at least the fourth, all babe escort off the bus at the college where I take my evening classes. This is to accompany an Unfavored/freak gangstalker, this time a middle aged male in a yellow anorak (also doing bus view obstructing when I was at the bus stop waiting for the right route) with grey wavy hair -four Unfavored attributes. The babe escort was a little different as they added a negro female who was mildly attractive, but retained the Asian woman who regularly tails me off the bus on Tuesdays and Thursdays for my evening classes. They cluster some 6' apart, walking parallel to me all on my right side, with the Unfavored specimen just outside of them, in the center.

I see that they changed the lighting in the computer lab, consistent with the ongoing lighting changes elsewhere on the same floor. They are florescent bulbs, but have a glare to them I cannot quite explain. They also mounted them in new locations in the ceiling, changing up the lighting of the computer lab room.

Mulching with straw on the beds of the raspberries for the last two days on the farm job. It is loathesome as it is close to the highway and with the attendant coordinated vehicles and extra noise constantly streaming by. Anytime I look up they have coordinated the colors, whites and silver grey vehicle colors with a red one in the center. Not unlike the babe gangstalker formation mentioned above. There were varying deliveries of the straw mulch, some more like hay given the greenish color to it. Some of the straw bales were very blonde, other more yellow toned. And the perps told me that the color of the animal feed, hay usually, was of vital importance to their study of the meat products from the same animals, and by extension, important to their study of me and everything I eat, including my once per week red meat feed at the First Feral Family. There isn't a more unreliable source of information than the perps, but they are accurate sometimes, usually determinable when the gangstalking and harassment has consistent themes.

And then there was none, as in end of the farm work job today. I figured it was coming by gleaning the obvious from the newspaper ads back in September, but I was hoping for another two weeks to financially recover from my PC upgrade. Another useless back and forth trip; I was told all the paper work was ready but when I went up to the office it wasn't, not until the end of the day. (To prevent me leaving early with a full day's pay). So back downstairs to the warehouse main floor, and my bad news buddies were doing their gangstalking thing again (entrances and exits), and I had the opportunity to tell them the paper work wasn't ready. They didn't seem very apologetic for being totally wrong, nor surprised that it "happened", har, har. So..., back to the millstone around my neck, the line of credit that sucked some $1700 before I got it paid off in September. I got some far-the-wells from my laboring co-workers, though it did seem a little exaggerated, and staged. The Punjabi man who has poor English, but has the most success with me as a translator, said I was a "good guy", so I suppose that was all the affirming credit I was going to get. The supervisors didn't seem too moved to summarize my job performance, but given the highly attritional work environment, that is as good as it gets, lasting some four months.

On the farm I spent the morning doing weeding a 120' raided row of soil next to the busy #17 highway. Later it was plastic sheet cutting with dull scissors as the polyethylene plastic was used for a liner in the fruit picking bins (4' x 4' x 2.5' high), and it hung over the edges when the bins were filled with compost. Apparently, this is to grow fig trees in the greenhouse. It also spells "long term perp experimentation" with the effects of plywood (painted a rusty red) on the fruit of the fig trees. The phenolic resins (adhesives) of plywood are the subject of endless games of perp fuckery, the sillyiest being replacing one third of the ceramic tiles in the elevator with a 2'x1.5' sheet of plywood. There was nothing wrong with the ceramic tile job, but like anything, it has to be morphed into perp games, one being related to phenolic resins. I learned somewhere recently that plants have their own natural phenolic resins, so that might be the reason for the substantial perp interest in differentiating the two sources when one is a pollutant (glues) and the other a natural plant material.

I am being dociled tonight and demotivated such that this won't get posted when it should. They are also rendering me to be restless as well, so not a good evening for deliberative study of all the perp hi-jinx this week, assuming I am allowed to recall them all. (Rare that I am allowed full recall of their recent fuckery).

A day of PL/SQL course work, beset by directories not loading, a total Windows XP freeze (even the mouse), incomplete solutions to the labs, and some flakey SQL Developer behavior. Never mind the forced mispellings and the cognitive clobbering I got after lunch for two hours, then it suddenly evaporated. And this a programming language course, not my forte unfortunately, though I wonder if the perps were behind the rather accelerated forgetting and dithering when undertaking this kind of work on behalf of my employer in earlier decades.

A game of suck-n-fuck, aka dashed expectations over visiting the ATM after the bus dropped me off downtown. I saw a queue of some 12 or so at the outside ATM, lined up past the entrance, and me having to slip through the line where the pink clothed child was in a stroller, only to find that the TD Bank had "forgot" to unlock the front doors to the inside ATM's, less than an hour after closing for the day (Saturday). Then I had to recross the queue again. I find it totally absurd to have that many Fuckwits clustered around an ATM that is the only option when shut out of the other two inside, within an hour of the bank closing. The number of pedestrians on the streets of downtown is also very high, as we haven't made it into December yet. Another never-before is the number of Christmas lights and decorations that are now up, at least two weeks earlier than any other Christmas time. And did I say that there are no end of lights being directed at me, and that there are excessive amounts of lighting displays this year?

Here is a link that talks about nanoparticle exposures, pollutants and deleterious nanoparticle effects. The perps have been telling me for at least four years that this is a major bugbear in completing their research on me, aka harassment and abuse. Given that nothing is a coincidence in my life, I thought I would pass on the interesting link, and also my pondering as to how they are working on this, and are they tracing my every neuron to the sub-molecular level? They tell me they are, and it might explain why so many Fuckwits are shaking their plastic bags or other like items in my proximity as well as the plethora of PVC irrigation pipe bearing vehicles that circle me.

Another related theme to the perp's plastics focus is the ingestion of foods that have been watered using various forms of plastic pipes to carry the irrigation water. There is PVC, poly (black colored stuff), and vinyl hoses, and this all seems to be important to them, not to mention the color of the pipe/hose as well.

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

Composting With a Helicopter Escort + 11-22-2009 Updates

Back to one of the perps' very favorite themes, composting. The farm I am working at has a significant composting facility, and lo, if I wasn't shovelling and lugging it about in plastic crates. These stacking plastic crates number in the tens of thousands, and are being set up as the support, and then the containment for waist high growing beds in the greenhouse. One of the large greenhouses, about 120' x120', is being set up to grow tomatoes and cucumbers, and the empty crates needed to be brought in, arranged in an orderly fashion like Lego blocks, and then the digested compost filled ones were brought in for me to place on top. They were about 50lb when filled with compost, brought on pallets by the fork lift, so there was plenty of plastic action, me lugging them with the filled crate leaning on me, as well as plastering me with compost soil on my pants and sweater.

I was in the greenhouse for the first part of the day, lugging the compost filled crates and setting up empty ones, and at the end of the day in a howling wind storm, I was filling them with composted soil, (no smell). I was effectively swapping places with my laboring confreres, as they were on the lugging and plastic crate placement duty then. I don't have any TI complaints about the task, but the perps are beserk about both my exposure to plastics of all kinds, and too, compost. Long time readers will know that Ms. C of the story did her master composter's course, she being the planted girlfriend from 2000 to 2003. And I shovelled and seived a 3' heap of compost at my mother's place last week, so I reckon I have had plenty of "composting action" in the past week, but one never knows when it slips from a minor perp obsession to a relentless theme. I reckon they wanted to detect my compost interaction energetic signature in both locations, however they do it, and whatever they get out of it.

And my fourth pee of the morning was immediately following the compost in crates activity, with plenty of co-workers buzzing around me. It seems that the plastic interaction initiative of the perps is still going strong, as there will be even more people eating produce that gre in plastic crates, something that profoundly interests the perps as well. All packaging and growing situations for food, as well as irrigation water supply pipe types interests the perps as well. It is one of their more benign interests it would seem, as I don't usually get much hassle when actually slinging the compost. But they do like to add plastic scraps back into the pile when I expressly seived them all out when I created the pile at my mother's place. Who knew that a billion dollar/year budget covert agency would be so totally obsessed over compost, and that it would be an abiding component of their ongoing psychopathic life rape activities that passes for the normal TI experience.

I had at least two helicopters hovering overhead for my outside composting shovelling, and at least 12 float planes, many of them directly overhead and only a mile S. of the airport. They would of left Vancouver harbor, and are S. bound to Victoria harbor, passing within a mile of the airport. A little odd, having a flight path next to an airport, but I don't know where the designated flight paths are.

And by dint of good perp planning, the outside compost heap was directly lined up with a back road, and lo, if there wasn't at least 12 vehicles coming slowly down the hill, headlights ablaze, with me directly in their beam while at the compost heap. The one visible house also added to the light games by putting on all their outside lights at 1530h, most odd. Then when it was a little dimmer, around 1615h, the fork lift came by with its lights on, which was needless as one could see perfectly fine. But as all TI's know, the perps go to absurd lengths to keep us "in the beam', lights trained on us of varying kinds, bulb types, intensities and distances.

An unholy number of gangstalkers for a five minute sortie to the local supermarket in the ongoing windstorm. One pair of freaks reprised four times in the store, managing to end up in front of me at the checkout, and then the vile red/pink hatted woman of this (sort-of) couple was in lead-ahead gangstalk mode for the two streets that I take to my apartment. I got skunked on the bulk mixed salad again; it was wilted, and there were no viable alternatives. At the farm, I was to order a mixed salad for Friday, but I learned today it was picked over for a order. The ingestion and digestion of salad is a big deal for the perps, and they seem to be keeping me on a biweekly menu; eating it one week and having it "wash out" for the next. Infuriating, though this salad fixation only started a few months ago, as it had been dormant since about late 2004.

And I had my double freak escort at the ATM at 0700h this morning, just before getting on the bus which had extra freaks on board as well. Only a check deposit, but that is indeed exciting for the perps. They had the leaf blower dude out, of no apparent affiliation (not a city maintenance worker), the third one for a six minute city walk. Never mind that it was patently absurd with the wind storm still playing. Regular readers will know the perps like me to be around wind currents, vacuum cleaners and blowers, and I suspect this is true for most TI's, as it may fit the theory of there being "vortex energies" all about us, and creating a localized version is a way to possibly highlight some extra energetic interaction with the victim.

What is with the freaky glove colors that are getting presented for me to see? Green, blue, purple, you name it, the perps ensure they go through the distance dependent checks as to my reaction and how it may vary by distance. One one case of green gloves some 25' away, the person was talking to me and waving their hand around, and lo, if a same green plasma flash didn't erupt either side of the gloves.

Another day of lugging 30" long x 18" x 12" deep plastic crates filled with compost and placing them in waist high rows on top of other crates in the greenhouses. I learned that 9,000 strawberry plants are on order, and when planted two/crate, that means some 4,500 crates will have to be manually filled by my shoveling compatriots. Each crate is supported by four crates stacked below it, so that amounts to 18,000 plastic crates I will have walked past, and a lesser amount for handling to build the stacks and then the compost filled one on top.

Then I noticed that 80% of the said crates come with one or more corners slathered in a shit-brown clay. Not only does it look the right color, but has the same wetted look to it. There is no rational explanation as to how this clay got there, as it is not at the compost pile, so how did it get there when it isn't even a local clay? The perp's shit games take a new turn.

A raging storm today, as well as driving wind to stir things up. I left work early as I usually do on Thursdays to get to my evening Oracle courses, this one on PL/SQL.

And how did this negro kid in the heart of white Central Saanich get ahead of me at two bus stops? He took the slow bus (#75) departing at 1543h from the same stop (Saanichton Exchange) that I was waiting at, and 8 minutes later I took the more direct routed bus (#73) (1551h) and there he was at the Royal Oak bus exchange. I looked up the schedule and he would of got there 16 minutes later after my bus had departed. He does his hang dog loitering act at the bus stop until my bus leaves (with me seated on the right side to witness this chicanery), and lo, if he isn't loitering at the downtown bus stop prior to mine, "somehow" getting ahead of the bus again. That he had a hoodie in the same blue as my jacket wasn't a fluke, but how did he twice get ahead of the bus when I was on the most direct and fastest route?

More lugging of 60lb plastic crates all day, each full of composted soil. In the latter part of the day I was directed to join my laboring compatiots outside on crate shovelling duty, and then we all enjoined in placing them on the stacked crates. So.... after a near whole day of being in the greenhouse in crate & soil reception, I was part of the all-together change in work assignment.

A late day storm came on then, forcing me to wear the dayglo orange raincoat, and with the earlier sunsets, the perps pulled a very sudden dusk onset, darkening the clouds within minutes, and then putting on a rare thunderstorm for this area. They then arranged darker plasma beams around me, a relatively new phenomenon, but I suppose they wanted some contrast data, and the accelerated dusk onset was part of their jerking around at this time of day, and the red color fixation that goes with it. I had plenty of others clustering around me while back in the greenhouse in my dayglo rain jacket, so I wasn't ignored while this herding was going on.

How is it that my attempt to load Carbonite Backup failed, even after disabling the antivirus program to accomodate the installation? More games and jerkarounds it would seem.

Most of my day got derailed onto composting activities at my mother's place this time. Back to the perp's abiding interest in this topic. I borrowed the leaf grinder from my ex and ran the leaves through it. Naturally a number of things "went wrong", per usual. The trimmer string suddenly came off at one point, necessitating an installation of new string. The always-happens-to-me thing again, as I have never run one before. If the perps are arranging games over composting, one can be sure the harassment has at least 8 months or so to run, as this is how long composting will take (in a heap, and including latencies for not getting around to the compost dig over in a timely fashion). And the perps are especially interested in me repeating this year's composting underneath the black plastic sheet. And too, they like me walk over the level ground where this year's compost heap was until I sifted it two weeks ago.

I thought I would have a lazy day putzing at home here, but no, my mother somehow recalled that I was keen to get the leaf grinder (like a stationary string trimmer) from the ex and put all the leaves through it. (And too, this commitment was "forgotten", something that never normally occurs). Cold and windy it was, and thankfully I had my warm coat with me, the long travelled microfiber coat and warm grey fleece inside. This coat was my abiding companion in the intense harassment days of fall and winter 2002, and has kept me warm in many vehicle sleep-outs the assholes have pulled on me at the time, as they wouldn't always let me stay in my apartment because the head pain beams were so intense. Then the doctor at the time got great mileage out of this detail, attempting to cast this activity into a larger clinical picture. Funny how the doctor knew to home in on this detail.

More restless legs nonsense again; I never had such a problem until the harassment started. And a bout of nodding off as I write this is also coming on. I will attempt to post this blog now, before something else erupts.

FYI; a few add-ons in the above posting if you are coming to read this for the second time.

I won't get to do a separate posting today as there will be an afternoon First Feral Family visit soon, and I want to get back to the PL/SQL course study again, something that is now very obviously perp constrained.

Last night's restless legs and general restlessness culminated in a never-before 2130h bed time, unheard of unless ill. Then a 12 hour sleep, getting up at 0930h, another never-before sleep duration, but a good way to constrain study time this morning.

And I see from my email that three comments in my blog were posted but NOT moderated or accepted by me. I get at least six comments per day, many of them spamming and also in an unreadable foreign language that I routinely delete and never post. But as of today, I am getting comments posted that I did not moderate or accept. Funny how this bullshit "happens" to me all the time. The comments cannot be deleted once posted, or at least on this version of Blogspot I get to see.

An excellent posting by Wise TI about the realities of dealing with law enforcement and other allied assholes of the perp criminality.

More additional bloggings after this was posted.

Leaf raking with the First Feral Family this afternoon, the Feral Fossils (aka parental quislings, the ones that gave me up for this fucking hell from the get-go) and I. I also operated the leaf grinder, and there were bountiful red colored leaves to process, unlike yesterday's predominance of brown colored leaves. And need I say that there was extra similar deep red colored vehicle gangstalking when we were all in the vehicle at 1630h, near dusk onset? Plus there was the bright red plastic housing of the leaf grinder inside the vehicle as we ventured on after dropping off my father at the care home to my ex's place, the owner of the leaf grinder. Just too much red opportunity for the sickos. The leaf grinding is for the preparation of a new compost heap at my mother's place, not unlike the one I built this year. As always, there will be some variations on the compose theme at the First Feral Family home; more red leaves, more worms from the kitchen waste pile, and so it goes; combinations and permutations ad nauseum.

Only to be followed by my walk to the bus stop and the bus trip back to my place where ever more red vehicles were in extra frequent proximity to the bus. The perps also seem to get great mileage out of dimming the lighting conditons so that I can barely percieve red at night, save the over-utilized brake lights of course. Not too many freaks on the bus tonight, though about 15 others on board, and one shooting a strange glance at me. I had a two cell phone escort for the most of the bus trip, so I am sure there was much more to it than I am aware of. The hoodie dudes got pulled early in the bus trip; the perps have me reactive to this mode of dress now, when it wasn't a big deal a year ago. I wonder if this has subconscious traumatization associations as well.

And more forced "emo-trashing" tonight over the TV news; these are event where the assholes make me much more emotional over the stories when I never cared much before they went overt on me since 2002. And then they played the same story twice on two affiliated news broadcasts, just what I needed. Time to get this posted and done with.

Monday, November 16, 2009

Doctor and Medical Student Visitation

1610h (Monday)
A now rare Sunday stayover at my mother's place, owing to the doctor appointment today. This appointment was forgotten about until I got the phone message reminder when I got back from farm laboring Friday. The Sunday stayovers at the home of the First Feral Family had been near routine for some three years since I gave up my vehicle in 2006, and invariably I would do odd garden and house maintenance jobs Sunday afternoon, and Monday morning. Then an almighty vehicular gangstalking with the three of us in the vehicle when I was dropped off at my place downtown. It was a full on downpour this morning when they jerked me into a 1010h get-up for a rare 11 hour sleep. This made my availible time much less for driving duties this morning, and the rain ensured no garden work was undertaken as well. In fact, so little time with driving duties, household duties and PC upgrade duties that I never got to take a shower or even shave. A total bonus from the perp's perspective as shaving seems to fry their minds, as there are energetic changes with the exercise that they do not yet understand, and cannot fuck with yet. Dragging that little grey plastic and teflon head with the two steel shaving blades over my face, (and my chest and abdomen since 10-2007) is a huge deal, hence the associated noisestalking while shaving, not to mention strange noises of no apparent causal, e.g. the clicking that erupts at the same time, most often when the razor is briefly near my ear. And never mind the plethora of same grey colored vehicles coursing by when I leave my apartment afterward. Other variations of shaving games are the weekly nut shave, using a navy blue disposable (plastic) razor, and needless to say, accompanying navy blue gangstalking vehicles, especially the garbage trucks, the next morning upon my exit.

Then too, shampoo from a plastic bottle is a big dea for the perpsl, as that is a fairly typical shampoo packaging, as a glass vessel just isn't too clever to have in a bathtub. And my beard didn't grow as much as it usually does in the morning, and my hair wasn't the greasy mess either, making me semi-presentable to the doctor and his medical student (har, har). And to have me out and about, first at the First Feral Family home, and then at the doctor's without shaving or showering (and shampooed hair) is an all time first. Plus, this is the day I "forget" to take the yellow colored medications, and that begets extra yellow colored gangstalker (personnel clothing and vehicle color) attention. Just too exciting for the perps, this orchestrated confluence of bothersome particulars removed from my energetic signature. And as well, (sudden recall after taking a piss), is that I was prepped with yellow dye on my fingers from yesterday's leaf raking with the deerskin gloves that magically leached unremovable yellow dye.

Funny how these color themes work out; a light tan metallic brown vehicle was on lead-ahead gangstalker duty when travelling back from this morning's driving sortie, and then again, when driving to the doctor's appointment. The perps are still working hard on their brown color games, and it might also have something to do with the brown skinned E. Indian doctor visitation today. But as it is a ubiquitious color, albeit carefully orchestrated by hue, brightness and object size, one can extrapolate the perp's games too far. But I did seen a bold brown vehicle from the local cable provider yesterday replete with a large array of ladders on the roof rack, a Sunday no less, it just might mean that the assholes are making more progress on this color, however they measure it vis-a-vis me and my aversion to it.

And what is with the Firefox Bookmarks sabotage tonight? When I got this rebuilt PC back someone had sorted the 20,000 bookmarks under my Movies folder in alphabetical order, something I had planned to do anyway on the new PC build as it would be so much faster. Then today, I see two Bookmark directories, movies and consumer goods, both substantial, got deleted, and I was about to invoke restore the backup prior to the rebuild, and lo, it restored itself. This meant that all the PC build related directories I had deleted in the last few days were re-instated. No problem, so I try to delete them again, and they won't delete, or if they do, they come back in a few minutes. Why is it that the assholes seem so obsessed with what I delete and need me to replay it again for them, nearly a week later? Funny, the doctor asked me about PC sabotage today, and PC's aren't his thing at all; he didn't understand what blogging was until I re-translated it as an "e-journal".

The sickos reminded me that no one of two possible parties responded to my emails about getting my $20 rebate over an NZXT computer case. They had me suitably cranked to fire off four polite emails, this time; two resends to the two that never replied, and one to the rebate outfit, and another to NZXT. I reckon this rebate bullshit must be a perp invention to prolong the agony of the financial transaction to months after the fact, as a post-purchase provocation to invoke protracted contact over financial transactions, topic near and dear to their insane fuckery.

And I was reminded today that the perp's copper color obsession is being escalated; the doctor's office waiting room had new color colored seats, and they only had the last round of chairs put in three years ago, and they all looked fine. Now why would a publically declared budget shortfall hospital replace the freaking seats in the office when there was nothing wrong with the brown colored seats in the first place? And also of interest, they jerked me around to be a minute late, and thereby reducing my sit time to only a minute or so before the doctor came to collect me. And lo, just as he entered the waiting area, why, a E. Indian colleague "happened" to come by and strike up a conversation with the doctor while I was standing in the expectation the doctor would beckon me to his office. This conversational delay stunt lasted only 60 seconds or so, leaving me standing by the new copper colored seat, but could of that been the intent, slowing me up to remain near the seat, having just got up from it? The seat shuffling games at the theater with other family members is as predictable as it is familiar, so I suspect this is all part of the same game. There must be some energetic color impartation from the seat to my ass and back that they wanted to get a longer reading on, rather than having me transit directly to the doctor's office.

And for the record, the medical student, which has to be a perp operative for all the times this "happens", was a blonde female, though not high in the attractive department. Presumably more "blonde aura" reaction was being elicited for whatever reason the assholes keep up this inanity.

More continuing Firefox bookmarking sabotage, this time running the bookmarks many of the intended deleted ones in the bookmark titles when attempting to bookmark a new site. There is no earthy reason for the deletion obstructed websites to be planted as the title of an unrelated site I want to bookmark, but there they were while I was intently researching small speakers for my PC. I don't have any, and the headphones work just fine, but the perps seem to now have me researching this topic, as if the financial stretch to get this PC upgraded wasn't enough hassle. I don't know why they send me on these coveted items (per planted notions) bookmarking binges, but that has been consistent for a long time, even for products I have no interest in acquiring, e.g. laptops. I hope this one is over and I can get on with some Oracle SQL course study, another activity that isn't getting the attention it deserves.

Time to call this one done for tonight, and it might be the last posting until next weekend as I have two evening courses to attend as well as the farm labor job.

Saturday, November 14, 2009

Back To the Database Course

I started the Oracle PL/SQL course today, a full day Saturday start, plus two more, and Tuesdays and Thursday evenings until Dec. 14, 2009. These are the ones that the disabilities services refused to fund me for, and my mother sprang for the substantial tuition costs. Though she did hint broadly three days ago that I wouldn't find much work in this field for a time, which decoded, means at least six to eight months I reckon. More farm work into the summer I suspect, and then poof, work will materialize in some way. What the perps get from all this isn't clear to me, but their presence in the classroom was evident to me by seeding a disgusting skinheaded male in my peripherial vision, and a thuggy dude in my former seat I had for the previous class this fall. The seating re-arrangements sent me to the opposite side of the room, free from the flickering headlights and yellow flashing lights they like to arrange from behind the silver colored plastic venetian blinds.

And then the mind-fucking field day they have with screwing me out of recalling computer code syntax, something they have repeatedly done over the past few decades, not to mention the recall deletion games the assholes have put me through. Then too, the "can't figure it out", even if looking at it; missing semi-colons, misspelled variable names and other applied cognitive impairments make for a field day of harassment when every last detail is important for computer code to run. Even the Oracle SQL Developer tool went flakey when I attempted to change my password, and that hung me up for ten minutes, and I only got bailed out by the kindly instructor who had also put the command line syntax on the board some 60 minutes earlier. And he wouldn't stop talking while I was about to enter the new password. And have I mentioned how many times the perps put on the noise or other harassment whenever I enter a password, be it at the checkout for debit cards, online website entry and anywhere else? This beserk chase over the use of my passwords has been going on since the harassment erupted in 04-2002, and the assholes are as consistent as they are relentless.

Another screw-around to deal with; the forced "forget" to look at my diary for next week, only to be reminded after work on Friday that I have a doctor appointment on Monday. Given the logistics of getting to the farm via city bus, it means no pay that day, it is dedicated to seeing the doctor, presumably about fuck all. His view is that I am being persecuted, but there might be some medications that will alleviate the stresss. Seeing that I don't have a choice in these "reactions" to extra-conventional gravitic impositions that now number some 500 or more a day, the notion of stress is one that is only apparent, as I suspect the true body chemistry substrates are governed by the assholes who make it their business to remotely govern all my functionality, autonomic to elective and motion, vision to all thoughts. I still get noise stalked and maser lashed when I engage in attention switching, so I suspect they are still working on this deep brainstem level activity, as they seem to be unable to fuck it as much as they would like.

Though dream invasion is getting more frequent and even more lurid; cruise ship travel this morning, where the land was only 100' away on either side, and it was akin to driving through a subdivision, the properties were that close to this vessel, per planted dream. I cannot recall what the rest of it was all about, but as before, and all TI's know this, one's dreams aren't one's own, but yet another playfield for the sickos. They are now able to keep me in an unpleasant dream for as long as they want, a capability they only attained in about 2007. Before that, I had a bad dream circuit breaker capability they couldn't control; I would awaken if my dreams would get too strange. Now, my dreams are strange in that they are overly technical, strange and protracted. All the while, they also engage in their meat aerial games, a near-every nightime event, but also coordinated with dreams.

This week has had the harassment escalated; more provocations and rage-ifications, aka "reactions". The noise of everything has increased; my regular Gillette Excel two blade safety razor makes a scraping sound unlike any before, putting a mug down on the table makes three or four loud rapping noises when it was cleanly placed, picking an object off any surface continues to make noise ehen the object is in mid air, my shoes squeak even if they aren't moving, I get more nipple and fingertip jabs (some 200/day I reckon), and plenty of other faked touches on my arms, torso, face and neck when there was no causal action to create the sensation. Either a force field or a direct neural stimulation, but likely both as the assholes like to try all kinds of different ways to arrive at the same harassment perception. The arrival of the rebuilt PC three days ago (Wednesday) certainly marked a harassment escalation, and I suspect they are still at it, keeping me going to Tuesday next week, Nov. 17, as Monday will be non-work day because of the

More early morning activity planned tomorrow; leaf raking for the in-town brother like last year. It pays some, so I won't knock it, despite the perp research tie-ins. So I will launch this posting, dull as it is, as there has been a wealth of perp nonsense to report on, and somehow, it just isn't getting remembered at the present moment.

Thursday, November 05, 2009

Offline Days Are Finally Done

11-11-2009, Rememberance Day, national holiday in Canada

Let's see what happened, (har, har) this past week while getting this PC rebuilt. The good news is that after only six screamings at the perps over jerkarounds in making the physical connections I have a working PC with the latest and fastest hardware. Bragging some, but only this time, an Intel Core i7 920 D0 quad-core processor with 6Gb of DDR3 RAM, an Asus P6T WS motherboard, a Gigabyte 9600 Silent Cell VGA card, a Plextor BD/DVD disc player, and a new 640Gb Western Digital hard drive.

Events, inanities and other orchestrations of the past week in no particular order were;

There was an apartment building wide fire alarm that brought out the fire department in their yellow and white trucks, at least five of them, with the ladder truck conveniently finding some eight empty parking stalls in file so it could park at the curb around the corner. The two fire trucks in mid street opposite this apartment building and the command vehicle parked on the other side from where I watched the proceedings. Three firemen each with mouths agape were in place as I entered the lobby from the stairs. And the supposed long gone (two months now) former building manager, and witness to at least six past fire alarms, was reprised from his old job wherever that is and brought out to play building manager for us residents filing out past him. His successor never showed up most curiously, only the assistant as an additional "helper". It was all over in some five minutes or so, and as I was about to enter the stairway, why, the same three firemen were just behind the door and filing out while I held the door. Convenient that, especially in their dayglo duds. One fire truck proceeded to depart, and one block away, another fire truck entered the same street so it too could proceed in the same direction on the same side of the road as its compatriot immediately in front of me. Get this; a "spare" fire truck "shows up" a block away timed to then proceed in the same direction as the one in front of me, without any emergency rationale. And no less, it was entering a dead ended street in the next block.

On the farm laboring front;
I am getting some 20 to 30 helicopters a day if I am out in the open field or even near the warehouse entrance. The extra dark grey military Sea King is doing some 80% of the appearances, and was joined by one in the typical Canadian Forces lighter grey. As always, some kind of blackish beam is emanating from it, different in form most each time I happen to stare at it, though they did zap me with a bright point source (likely a maser, seen axially) yesterday, coming off the rotor tip. Last week, there was a helicopter each time the same three of us get out of the truck at the same location, two days in succession. On the second day, they had me scripted to say something like, "what kind of helicopter is it today", and my co-workers went quiet on that one, not wanting to affirm this unlikely occurence. One of those arranged conversation ending statements they like me to perform.

Thursday last week, 11-05-2009, the E. Indian worker was in the changing room with me and the two Latino workers, and he had a large box of cinamon buns and they were passed around. This was the area where we eat our 15 minute breaks, as it isn't worth it to take off one's rain gear only to put it on again in such a short time. This was the 1000h break, and I had one. Later at the 1500h break I had a "need" for this junk food again (something I rarely purchase or eat otherwise), and I was offered one. I was changing to head out early for my evening class and asked for another one, which the fellow gladly supplied. After saying my goodbyes, and heading out of the warehouse for a 20 minute walk to the bus stop, he comes after me with the box of cinamon buns, now some 100' from the exit door, offering me the last one. And as I was attempting to cleanly lift it it did a backflip into the box again, breaking in two. Eventually I was allowed to grab it all after some extended finger manipulations, having to eat part of it in front of him. I thanked him for his generousity and did the gracious pleasantires, and headed off. But it struck me that he was, per perp direction, chasing me with the cinamon buns and offering them, with me eating them, in widely differing lighting conditions; stark flourescent lights of the ersatz break area, and then outside in full light, next to the two story blue painted warehouse siding. I suppose there was a few more elements in all of this; feeding me glutenous food (I normally avoid gluten like at least one TI I know, likely by perp diet arrangement), and of course, getting some brown color in while in the presence of a brown skinned person. All this is exciting for the perps, and these themes (gluten (aka bread-stalking) and brown color (aka brown-stalking)) are as consistent as this harassment is abusive and relentless.

Other farm themes have been over the apparent lighting and light sources; they have me working in the greenhouses at first for and hour or two, then have me in the fields, and then rotate me into the greenhouse again, sometimes all within one morning. They even had me do weeding immediately ouside the green houses as part of a Foodsafe condition, the BC public health initiative that is extending to farms and their laborers, and entails plenty of handwashing and Purelle applications, just what the perps like best. They like me to work on red colored vegetables or fruits in the greenhouse; radishes and strawberries as prime examples. Other days, they reverse the greenhouse and field work. All to highly variable weather conditions, though no snow. Regular readers and TI's will know the perps have no end of fascination with light sources that illuminate me (or other TI's), as well as what kind of material it may pass through; glass (greenhouses), safety glass (has a plastic film in the center of a two glass sandwich), transparent vinyl and hoophouse poly coverings and whatever else there may be that allows light to pass through.

Other consistent farm work themes are having me pull weeds, harvest salad leaves (e.g. mizuma, arugula, Italian parsely) and to cut cabbages (also packing the boxes, weighing and stacking them). Often times, there are helicopter noise at the moment of cutting the cabbages, or other arranged noise, sometimes with a light flash (plasma) as well. And too, when weeding next to the greenhouse (per above, when I was yarding as much as I could to pull a blackberry vine from the roots, someone starts talking to me and asking for an answer to an inane question. I suppose they want to have me thinking on two tracks while exerting myself in concert with the blackberry's plight.

Then last Friday, 11-06-2009, I phone the PC shop to ask what the state of the job is, and I get three differing versions in the same day of the PC being ready, with progressively diminutive levels of level of job completion depending who I spoke with;

1000h technician -done, ready, no problems, only need to pay the bill, phone back later to settle up,
1200h receptionist -done, just need to get the bill written up, technician saying its done, talk to the account manager,
1500h account manager -not done, technician takes Saturday off, won't be done until Monday, need to talk to me because a hard drive needs reformatting. The PC's were picked up yesterday, 11-10-2009, after some more screw-ups about not delivering when they said they would. Which suggests, if the perps are breaking down the job (functional decomposition) of PC service (or other) like this, they have a long road to go, reducing activities to these coarse sub-elemental stages.

And no coincidence (IMHO), later in the day, my in-town techno-phobic brother phones to tell me his PC problems, motherboard failed, and eliciting me to retell the above story again, along with other screw arounds from the the prior PC technician who also didn't take on the job for mysterious reasons. Keeping the subject topical but from differing sources seems to also be a perp trait these days.

Anyhow, I better get this precis posted as I am due to get to bed early tonight. But there has been a serious amount of abuse tonight; flicking food around, pulling objects from my hand, totally muddling me over the settling of accounts as to how much my mother owes me for the PC parts, and the entire First Feral Family event that unfolded over the day, as none of it was mentioned. As well, my daughter got lots of PC time at my mother's, she with the "new" PC with most of my old parts in it (motherboard, memory, CPU) plus some new ones, (video card, hard drive (identical to my upgrade too), and a new case. As mentioned in the past, the perps are very interested in the color of everything I am in contact with, and that includes the insulation on the wires, color of the capacitators, color of the chips, and of course, the color of the metals, especially copper. I have had a plethora of copper colored vehicles gangstalking me today, and I would assume it will continue for some duration until the "new-ness" of this PC is faded, in whatever way the assholes determine that. I also got a black vehicle escort for 90% of my drive to my apartment to drop of this newly re-built PC; I departed from my mother's place at 0810h to drive the PC with its black glossy case in her silver-grey Ford Escape, and lo, if my tail wasn't a glossy black Ford Escape. Regular readers will recall when I first transported this PC to my place in 2008, I also had a lead-ahead black glossy vehicle gangstalking me right to the apartment building. Enough conspiracy talk for now.

Monday, November 02, 2009

Meet the Brassica Family

A busy day of farm labor; first picking French breakfast radishes in the greenhouse (getting my red plant dose under glass), then after break, aiding in harvesting 25 50lb boxes of Bartolo cabbages, 10 boxes of red cabbages, then cauliflowers, then broccoli, and finally celeriac. All are members of the Brassica family of plants, save celeriac. Last week I was picking cabbages extensively as well, along with brussel sprouts. It seems to be an important part of the perp game plan to have me harvesting, walking among, looking at, touching and the rest of the sensory panel testing I get, plants of the Brassical family. The perps are intensely interested in phytonutrients, and there is no better plant family that represents this than the Brassicas.

A big convergence day for the perps' the first work day under Standard Time, no yellow medications as I "happened" to run out yesterday and didn't get to the LD store, and a payday, always an major attraction to extra fuckery in its own right. And it was no wonder that one of my outside Brassica harvesting coworkers/gangstalkers was circling the lunch room when I was having my lunch, dressed in his ridiculous and dishevelled yellow vinyl raingear inside no less. Talk about blatant and absurd, and he somehow managed to find me there as he didn't know the lunch room was there, so how did he find me, or at least, find the room with me in it as he came by himself. How all the above is related is unknown to me, but as always, they will try out paydays with different color associations, and different configurations of players. Only 10 minutes before day end, and paycheck pickup, there seemed to be an odious stakeout of the farm owner, his dogs, his son's dog, and the skulking tractor and forklift operator, just hanging around as I entered the greenhouses for a last 10 minutes of weeding. What that was all about I have no idea, as no kind of conversational setup was in place, they were just shiftlessly loitering for no seeming purpose. And I have remarked on the business owner (of any kind of business) making extra effort to hang around in my proximity, aka gangstalking.

Enough for a short day online, and I will be offline until Nov. 08 if all goes well with a very fast Intel x58 motherboard, extra memory, new hard drive, a new video card and all the trimmings to take away the excuses for this PC's halting performance, especially with mouseclicking and pointing.

Sunday, November 01, 2009

Daylight Hour Changeover Vexation

Twice a year I am put through the vexation of changing my watch to Standard or Daylight time, and it becomes a vexation as the watch gets fucked with such that I cannot change the time, and then resort to taking it into the Asian jeweller vendor for him to change. It is a Casio digital multi-mode watch, and I am only allowed to know how to use the timekeeping function (mode) which is fine by me. I have kept the manual since I got the watch as a replacement to the identical model that was stolen from my locker at the swim pool in 2003, and one would think I would be capable of learning to change it by now. But in perp world, not so. I was allowed to change the time without interference back in 2004, and to the degree I didn't need the manual. But now, the assholes routinely fuck me and the watch to send me to the vendor after a few days of being one hour out. Today, I had the manual out, read it, understood it, and then the fuckers would only allow the seconds to be changed which is totally fucking useless. After some five attempts I knew I was beat, and so yet again, the assholes are keeping me clued out by an hour. They just love the "getting it wrong" games, and this is a perfect entre for timekeeping fuckery, a longstanding theme of cognitive fuckaround games.

The one hour out jerkaround is a favorite of the perps; I have a long record of having my inbox email count being out, this going back decades to central corporate computers in the 1980's. It is no surprise that it still happens in the Windows PC world.

Other favorite perp fuckover action this morning was the infernal laundry, always a regular fascination for them. Today it was sheets and wool socks as both are notorious sources of lint, per fuckover games, but not when they are together. One cotton shirt was also included, and lo, if it wasn't lined with dirt after laundering to then force a second laundering of it, plus two added items of the same navy blue color. So..., the first round of laundry, sheets mainly, was in the adjacent dryer while the second was in the washing machine, side by side. Then when the second laundry load was finished in the washing machine it was amalgamated with the first load in the dryer, doubltless a very exciting advance in perp fuckery. And lo, if after the first dryer cycle the bedsheets were dry, but the added-in items weren't to then force a second drying cycle. In other words, one garment (the navy blue shirt) made it through both washing machine cycles and both dryer cycles, and sharing the first dryer cycle time with the first load after its second washing machine cycle. Other items went through both dryer cycles but only the first washing machine cycle. Get all that? It is fucking insane that a covert agency expends billions of dollars every year to piss with my clothes, their laundering, and every last detail of the process, all because they lack to gumption to front for their ongoing remotely applied nonconsensual human experimentation. All of which could of been expedited in one year with cooperation IMHO, but no, they continue on these bizarre themes and all the included minutae for over 7.5 years, still afraid to come out of the closet. If that doesn't define the perp's collective insanity, nothing does.

Other rage-fied vexations to get me ranting have been fucking with the mouse cursor speed, keystroke speed, and hopping crumbs around and out of my grasp when attempting to remove them. Also, bathroom cleaning duly erupted while the first washing machine load was running, and that was beset by re-occurences of dog hairs, crumbs and grit on the very surfaces that were cleaned. Once, I counted over forty arrivals of dog hairs on cleaned surfaces of the bathtub alone. I say dog hairs as an ironic term; I don't have a dog anymore, and although most of the hairs look to be from me, I would be totally bald over five years ago if I shedded with that rapidity. I have seen the dog hairs materialize from nowhere onto clean surfaces; a metallic shimmering and poof, there it is. Mostly they fuck me out of seeing them arrive, though they do like me to have me see the whole teleportation deal sometimes. Chocolate crumbs arriving on my plate from nowhere are playing big of late, total unabashed teleportations.

I was out earlier to do the now standard First Feral Family visit routine, visiting my father in the hospital for those with dementia, and my mother coming along too. We take him out for the afternoon and hang out at the First Feral Family home. Today, opera on TV was on while I went through the delivered boxes of PC hardware, in readiness for rebuilding this PC from a new motherboard up. Everything looked OK, no damaged components, and it remains to be seen how putting two PC's together is going to go. There are all manner of potential jerkarounds from parts that don't fit to defective parts and the inconvenience is doubled when there is a third party building the PC. I dare not try it myself, as the perps have sabotaged every effort I have made to make the simplest of hardware upgrades in the past seven years. They will even make my hands shake and fumble, never mind the opportunities for sabotaging the components themselves.

And the leafy greens testing is still continuing; my mother gave me some of the salad mix that she bought at a local grocery store, which "happens to be" from the same farm that I work. I had the same mix last week and had consumed it by Friday, two days ago. I keep repeating myself, but this is highly consistent with the perps looking for some kind of remotely detectable energetic provenance signature from me, that is gained by eating the food at the geographic location of origin. And of course, the salad was placed inside of two polyethylene bags (zip-lock, and then a shopping bage), and resided in my mother's fridge for at least a day inside the original stiff walled polycarbonate plastic box. Regular readers will know that the perps also have a fixation over my exposure to plastics, and routinely hound me with various kinds, especially vinyl PVC, having irrigation services vehicles with the 20' pipe sections on a roof rack, circling the block. (No irrigation jobs downtown so WTF?).

It was a muted city bus freakshow tonight; the main piss-off was that I had to walk to the bus stop and in doing so, couldn't take my Oracle database exam guide book back and begin to read it, eventually doing some of the exercises. It is at least 1,000 pages and isn't very portable, so I had to leave it there and plan to retrieve it on Nov. 03 when I do the PC shuffling and take it in for the total re-build. My mother's place serves as the delivered-to address for my web purchases, and the book and Windows 7 arrived in one delivery from

I stopped at the local supermarket on the walk back from the bus stop, and was reminded that the freakshow wasn't over by any means. Two seeming independent dreadlocked hair-do (hurl-do IMHO) women were on me, making multiple reprise gangstalkings, and one even ahead of me at the checkout with a protracted stay to deal with a supposed screw-up by the cashier. Any excuse to keep the freak in proximate range will do. One of the dreadlocked gangstalkers was wandering around with a bicycle helmet on, and the other was partially obscured by a hoodie. But the assholes gave me a full frontal look at the latter one, as she was right in front of me as I turned around to head to the checkout. Somehow she got ahead of me when she was still grocery shopping, or else there was a third dreadlocked hurl-do woman in the same clothing color, heavy on peanut butter brown, about the only brown color that has some leverage for the assholes who hound me all day and night.

I saw most of 60 Minutes tonight, and the Yakuza (Japanese mafia) piece by Lara Logan. And lo, if I wasn't surrounded by three Japanese boys at the back of the bus when there was plenty of seating elsewhere. They each took on a different configuration; two facing opposite and one in my orientation facing the length of the bus. The strangest thing was that they only went three blocks before they got off, and they could of walked the distance easily. Ditto with the hooded negro woman who got on to sit some 7' away, right behind a hooded dude, both wearing black coats with black hoods. She only lasted some three or four bus stops before she got yanked, a very common occurence for my negro gangstalkers. The more blacker they are, the shorter they stay on the bus proximate to me. Go figure. Then two independent negroes at the supermarket, filling in between the dreaded dreadlock acts. Another of the Unfavored demographic groups was a substantial obeser woman, at least 280lbs, in the typical white/grey/black pattern camoflage outfit that is so popular with the gangstalkers. She lurked in the shadow of the dimmed lighting behind the bus driver, a common ruse to present less of the Unfavored demographic group member. Her greyscale colored jacket features predominantly among the gangstalker routines of late, either ambulatory (all greyscale colors save metallic silver) in the form of a jacket, pants or both, and among the vehicular gangstalkers, putting clusters of white and silver-grey vehicles together, then gradations of grey and all the way to black.

This might be my last post for a week before I return from a major PC rebuild. And I am being optimistic here, as anything and everything can go wrong, (read sabotage) even if I am not doing the rebuild myself, but shell out to have it done.